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“Wait... the what?” I exclaim.
She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and smooths both hands over her silken robes. “Well... it seems that the King worded his agreement with you rather injudiciously, and the woman—your accomplice—instead of taking one or two ‘friends’ out of the House of Bounty with her, she took them all.”
I break into a grin so wide my cheeks ache. That’s my girl.
“The King wanted to stop them,” continues Lady Kessalif. “But I advised against it. It’s been a long time since anyone in this kingdom bargained with an Elf, full-blooded or not… but when I was a child I saw the direct result of a broken bargain. Not a pretty end for the one who disobeyed the terms of the deal, and I told the King as much.”
“Not a pretty end at all,” I agree, and my smile fades… because I, too, have seen the dreadful end of a broken deal. I had to watch it unfold right in front of my eyes, had to hear her screams… goddess, it’s the worst memory of my life, and I’m instantly furious at Lady Kessalif for evoking it.
After a quick glance at the half-open door of my chamber, she reaches toward my forehead again, even though she already placed her inner wrist there to check for a fever. She’s not a physician, but she knows the signs of sickness caused by magic overuse.
But this time the gesture is different. It’s her palm, not her wrist, that lands on my forehead, and after a second she drags the backs of her fingers down my cheek. “As I said, the King grows impatient. But I could be persuaded to hold him off for another day or two, perhaps. If you do something for me in return.”
A dry laugh bursts from my lips. “You want to fuck me?”
The sting of rejection flickers in her eyes. “It’ll hurt less than when he does it. I’ve seen how he treats the boys.”
“Can’t be much worse than the way he treats women.”
“Oh, my lamb.” She shakes her head and pats my cheek. “You have so much to learn about life here in the palace. You think you’ve been poorly treated, that you’ve had a hard life? Darling, this place is so much worse. It takes your innocence, your independence, your freedom, your morals, your soul—” She sucks in a quick breath, like a sob cut off before it can escape. “They take everything you once admired about yourself and make it theirs.”
“Why stay, then?”
She smiles faintly, touches the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, the creases around her mouth. “Once you’ve been here long enough, you discover you have roots so deep that if you tried to break away, some vital vessel deep within your psyche would burst and bleed. For someone like me, there’s no way back. Not from the things I’ve done.”
Maybe Juliette would know what to say to her. I’m no philosopher—I’m a renegade, a trickster.
“I could try to cobble together some palliative wisdom,” I tell her bluntly. “But I’m a simple man… simpler when I’m tired or angry. You want me to make you feel better? I can’t. My fingers, my tongue, and my cock belong to someone else. What the King takes from me, I will endure, but I won’t give myself to anyone except my beloved, not even for a few extra days of rest. You’re a powerful, attractive woman, and you can find lovers aplenty, I’ve no doubt. You don’t need me.”
Lady Kessalif’s mouth bends in a sad smile, and she brushes her fingers through my hair. “Who would have thought you possessed such honor and loyalty? I thought all men were devoid of such traits nowadays. Very well, lamb. I will plead with the King on your behalf anyway. As for the lovers you mentioned—they are more difficult to find than one might think, and not as attentive as I suspect you would have been.”
She turns and glides toward the door, her robes whispering across the polished floor. With her hand on the door’s edge, she turns back to say, “I am sorry for what I did, draining you so low. Stealing your power and rendering you helpless. I know how it feels, and… I would ask your forgiveness.”
I don’t forgive. I hold grudges until I’ve played my fill of tricks on whoever wronged me. But the haunted wistfulness in her tone affects me more deeply than it should.
“You have my forgiveness,” I tell her.
The sorceress bows her head in grateful acceptance and leaves my room, closing the door gently behind her.
26
The pain is gone, and its absence is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt. I’m lying on something soft, and I feel clean. Dry. I still feel a trickle of blood between my legs when I sit up, but I’m wearing a thick, warm cloth pad inside clean underwear, and I’m dressed in a loose, cream-colored nightgown.
The room I’m in has gently curved walls of white plaster,. Bluish vines fork across the pale walls, bearing blossoms like plum-sized lamps—blossoms that glow peach and ivory and yellow. Through three tall, pointed windows, a light breeze dances, feathering my hair against my cheek.
Slowly I leave the bed—a delicately crafted four-poster with shimmering curtains of gauzy green. When I stand upright, the cramps don’t return, and I breathe a sigh of relief, followed instantly by a wave of shame.
I must have passed out in the forest. I remember keeping up the pace for a long time, and then… nothing. My companions must have had to carry me to safety.
My travel clothes have been laid over a chair. Quickly I plunge my hand into the pocket of the leggings and find my notebook there, with the gold pin still threaded into the spine. Thank the goddess—my bargaining chip is intact.
We must be in the Sanctuary. There’s no other explanation for this beauty, this haven. Somehow Lannau and Enthel arranged for this luxurious treatment. How much have they told the other Elves about why we’re here?
First things first, though… I want a look at this place. Cautiously I approach the windows.
Beneath the warm blue of the sky, the earth has been cleft into a gigantic V. A pair of brown cliffs slash downward, angled to meet at the bottom of the ravine, where a river of mirrored blue sparkles in the morning sunshine. At the top of each cliff swells the forest—a healthier, fuller, and more abundant-looking than the cursed black tangle we struggled through last night.
Here and there along the steep slopes of the cliffs are broad ledges lined with quaint cottages—sturdy beams, brown stone, and shingled roofs. Vines and bushes cluster at the brink of each ledge, dripping down the cliffside in curtains or tendrils of shining green. There are little waterfalls, too, threads of glistening white water trailing from the rocks and emptying into the blue river below.
